


Domesticity

by galaxystiel



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bottom Castiel, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Shameless Smut, Top Dean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-09
Updated: 2015-06-09
Packaged: 2018-04-03 17:06:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,410
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4108453
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/galaxystiel/pseuds/galaxystiel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A flash of the domestic life in the bunker shortly after Dean and Castiel get together. Don't expect a lot of plot, this is all smut.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Domesticity

Dean yawned, getting to his feet and stretching his arms above his head, trying to work out the kink in his back from the awkward position he’d been in while watching Dr Sexy. Castiel had been curled up on his side, and practically using Dean as a pillow, refusing to move for the better part of an hour. Thankfully, the show had finished, and they were heading to bed.

Sam had ducked out to head to bed a couple of hours ago, citing the need for an early start so he could use the Men of Letters’ research to try and find out what had killed a family in Columbia Falls. At first, they’d thought it was a Rugaru, especially when the father’s body wasn’t amongst those of his wife and children, but the pattern wasn’t quite the same.

As soon as he’d gone, Castiel had shifted closer to Dean and the hunter had wrapped an arm around him silently, watching the rest of the show silently. Sam still wasn’t aware of their relationship, and Dean thought the angel had been amazing about keeping the whole thing a secret.

“Coming to bed, Cas?” Dean asked casually.

Castiel smiled and nodded eagerly, getting to his feet and mirroring Dean’s stretch. His sweatpants, courtesy of a very stressful shopping trip, hung low on his hips, exposing his hipbones. Unable to tear his eyes away immediately, Dean licked his lower lip slowly.

“Are you coming, or would you rather stare at me for a little longer?”

When Dean glanced up sheepishly, Castiel was wearing a patient smile, his cheeks slightly pink with flattery. He wasn’t unused to Dean staring at him, nor was he unused to Dean finding his body attractive. They had been doing this for a while now, after all.

Castiel’s hand was stretched out: an offer. Unlike the first time, Dean didn’t hesitate, and he laced their fingers together. He led Castiel through the bunker with purpose, heading towards Dean’s bedroom. It might as well be labelled Castiel’s bedroom too, he hadn’t slept in his own room for so long that it seemed pointless to even call it that. But to keep up appearances, Castiel would emerge from his own bedroom every morning, after disappearing from Dean’s.

Once the door was closed behind them, Dean dropped all pretences and pinned Castiel to the wall, crashing their lips together, hungrily. His hands travelled from Castiel’s shoulders up to his hair, knotting in the soft dark locks and deepening the kiss. He could feel it the moment Castiel responded, the hungry press of his tongue as it snaked into Dean’s mouth.

Like all of their previous kisses, this one was knee-trembling. Dean literally felt like his world revolved around nothing but Castiel at that point. That everything else was so distanced, the only other thing that existed apart from them was white noise, under his skin, on his fingertips. It was the only explanation he had for the tingling sensation all through his body when Castiel touched him.

Sam’s room was far enough away, and the walls were thick enough that neither of them were scared of being overheard. Which meant there was no need for either of them to hold back. They stumbled over to the bed, only breaking the kiss long enough to look at the other before one of them leaned back in again. Dean’s lips were swollen, red, kiss bitten.

Castiel was the one who landed on the bed first. The grasp he had on Dean’s hips ensured the hunter landed on top of him, but neither of them were complaining. They just broke apart from the impact, and Castiel gazed up at Dean with nothing but love and a trace of amusement in his expression.

Dean felt naked under that stare, knowing Castiel could see deep inside him, know everything he was feeling and thinking if he chose to. Knowing he could feel that longing deep in his chest for his angel. Once, that had made him feel weak, exposed. That time had long since passed.

Pulling his shirt over his head, Dean watched the glimmer of amusement in Castiel’s bright blue eyes fade, only to be replaced with something darker, something that could only be described as hunger, knowing those muscles would soon be dripping with sweat from the exertions that were to follow.

Laughing softly, an altogether smug look on his face, Dean leaned down to nip at Castiel’s lower lips, tugging on it teasingly. “See something you like there, Cas?” He breathed.

Castiel raised an eyebrow, and wrapped his legs around Dean’s waist, flipping them effortlessly. Straddling his lover, his stripped his own t-shirt off, exposing his tanned torso and smirking down at Dean.

“I could say the same thing to you, Dean,” he admired the view for a moment, before leaning down to trail his lips from Dean’s jaw to his neck, light brushes of his lips over the freckled skin.

Dean moaned, content to let Castiel stay on top for a few moments, enjoying the gentle kisses to his skin. He’d never enjoyed affection like this before Castiel, was always interested in the quick rush to strip and caught up in the heat of the moment.

But his patience didn’t last long, and soon enough he was flipping them back over, nipping at Castiel’s jaw, dragging his lips over the chiselled jaw line and enjoying the familiar stubble under his lips.

“God, Cas, you’re so fucking hot,” he breathed, hands sliding over Castiel’s torso, over his stomach to the waistband of his sweatpants.

“I think that’s my line,” came the hoarse reply.

Taking a moment to admire Castiel’s hipbones, Dean ran his tongue over them slowly, relishing the way Castiel’s breath hitched.

“Your hipbones, I swear… they could have been sculpted by Michelangelo.” Dean murmured, slowly sliding Castiel’s sweatpants down, removing the last shred of clothing that covered Castiel’s skin. It left him open, exposed, and Dean pulled back to gaze over his lover’s body.

Castiel took advantage of Dean releasing him to tug on his sweatpants, and Dean laughed as they only moved down an inch.

“Someone’s impatient,” he teased, sliding back to stand upright, pulling his sweatpants down and stepping out of them. “You just can’t wait to get me naked, huh?”

“Shut up, Dean,” Castiel mumbled, spreading his legs eagerly.

Dean watched, his mouth dry, as Castiel’s long, slender fingers wrapped around his own length, stroking himself. He forced his eyes up to his lover’s face, meeting the smouldering blue gaze. Any attempts he might have made at taking things slow were long now. His movements were so clumsy in his haste, that he dropped the lube three times, before Castiel growled with impatience and snatched the small bottle from him.

The thought of watching Castiel work himself open was almost enough to let Dean relinquish control, but he decided against it. He wasn’t letting Castiel have a second of dominance tonight.

“I don’t think so,” he growled, pinning Castiel down onto the sheets. All thoughts of taking the lube back were put on hold as his lips met the angel’s and everything else faded away. There was nothing else in that moment but him and Castiel, and the sound of his heart thudding in his chest, so loud it might beat through his ribcage.

A moan against his lips reminded Dean exactly where he was and what was waiting beneath him, and his hand reached out blindly, scrabbling to find the lube. His fingers closed around the bottle and he uncapped it swiftly, breaking the kiss. His lips felt numb, swollen from their actions, and he ran his tongue over his lower lip a few times as he slicked up his fingers.

He didn’t ask if Castiel was ready, knowing the snippy remark he’d receive about being ready hours ago. He just pressed the pad of his index finger against Castiel’s rim, circling around slowly, before he slowly slid it inside. Below him, Castiel’s head tilted back, exposing his throat as a shuddering sigh escaped him. His back arched as he tried to relax around the digit.

Dean thought he’d never looked more beautiful, with his chest heaving, and his muscles straining as the long elegant fingers grasped at the sheets, a sheen of sweat on his tanned skin. The blue eyes had darkened to almost black, indicating his lover’s desire. A desire that Dean share.

He gave Castiel time to adjust before starting to twist his finger, pumping it slowly in and out and crooking it. Castiel had to ask for a second finger twice before Dean obliged, wanting to tease him a little and at the same time, wanting to make sure he was ready for it.

He scissored and twisted his fingers as he opened up his angel, crooking his fingers to search for the spot inside Castiel that would make him moan.

When he found it, the soft whimpers that had been slipping from Castiel’s lips turned into a soft cry and his lover arched his back, rocking down on the fingers inside him.

“There! Again, Dean!”

Castiel found no shame in begging and pleading with Dean when he wanted something in the bedroom and it was something Dean could never get over. The deep gravelly tones that rasped out orders and pleas for more, for harder, for rougher. And when it was Dean’s name he was crying out, well, it was hard not to give him anything he wanted.

Dean obliged, brushing over Castiel’s prostate with his fingers again. “So hot, Cas,” he told him, roughly. “That feel good?”

A choked cry and nod was his only response, but he could see the way Castiel’s limbs were trembling with need. He didn’t have it in him to hold back any more, there was only so much he could take before he lost himself. A third finger joined the others, spreading them quickly, while his other hand focused on stroking himself idly, the pace the same as the digits he was pumping in and out of Castiel.

“Dean, I’m ready,” Castiel told him hoarsely, his eyes fixed on Dean’s, wild and hungry. It was almost his undoing, and Dean had to stop stroking himself and grasp the base of his shaft to stave off his orgasm. Sometimes Castiel was too hot for his own good.

Withdrawing his fingers, and pointedly ignoring Castiel’s whimper at the loss, he used the excess lube to slick up his length, adding a little more just for good measure. His body covered Castiel’s once again as he lined himself up and slowly pushed in.

Dean’s eyes fluttered closed as he slid inside Castiel, his movements slow, careful. His biceps were straining from holding himself up over Castiel, whose legs wrapped around Dean’s waist, effectively pinning him in place.

“Feel so good,” he grunted. “God, you’re so tight.”

Castiel made a strangled sound of impatience. “Move,” he whined. “I'm ready.”

Giving a shaky laugh, Dean obliged, pulling back and letting his hips snap forward. He moaned breathlessly, feeling a spike of pleasure. Beneath him, Castiel moaned too, tilting his hips a little to make sure Dean was at the right angle.

Words failed them now. The only sounds between them were breathy moans and gasps, the sound of skin on skin. The kisses they shared slowly changed. What had previously been heated, hungry, became light brushes of their lips between gasps. All the while, Dean’s hips didn’t stop moving, thrusting roughly into Castiel.

They were pressed together but it still wasn’t enough. The kisses slowly dwindled, until they were just pressing their foreheads together, staring into each other’s eyes as they both rocked together. Dean couldn’t focus on anything but the sight of blue, the sound of his own heart and his gasps mingled with Castiel’s.

Sex had always been good, but it had never been like this before Cas.

His hand moved to wrap around Castiel’s length when he saw the first telltale sign of tension around his eyes. Castiel was talented at a lot of things, particularly when it came to sex, but even he couldn’t come untouched. He needed a helping hand to get there, and Dean was always happy to give it to him.

“Go ahead, Cas,” he breathed. “Come for me,”

He pulled back just enough to admire the way Castiel’s body went taut, his back arching off the bed as he came all over Dean’s hand and his own stomach. Hot white ropes painted streaks over his skin and Dean groaned as he felt Castiel clench around him. There was pure, unbridled bliss on his face, something in his eyes that reminded Dean that Castiel was something way more than human.

A fluttering in his chest reminded him that Cas was an angel. An angel that had chosen to be with him despite everything he’d done, everything he was.

Later, he would tell himself that his orgasm came at that moment because of Castiel’s vice like grip around him as he came down from his high, but he knew different. It wasn’t the thought that he had something good in his life, something outside of Sammy that always came back to him. Even in death. It wasn’t the thought that he loved Castiel more than anything, and that something so holy and pure could love him. It couldn’t be any of those things because Dean never let himself think about them.

His body slumped over Castiel’s, his face buried in his neck as Dean tried to catch his breath. He panted against Castiel’s slick skin, his eyes closed. 

When he had control of his limbs, he did little more than clean them up with some tissues, before shifting a little to the side. He kept most of his weight to himself, but he did keep himself draped over Castiel. It wasn’t cuddling, but that was simply because he didn’t have the strength to move any further away than this.

Neither of them spoke their love aloud. It wasn’t their way, such things were said when it was necessary. But it was there, in every movement. It was obvious in the small smile that touched Castiel’s lips as he entwined his fingers with Dean’s and in the soft kiss Dean pressed into Castiel’s dark locks.

And when sleep overtook them, it was evident in that neither of them moved an inch, not even in dreams.

**Author's Note:**

> [MY TUMBLR](http://blueeyedangel.co.vu)


End file.
